


To Walk Through the Valley of the Shadow of Death

by LoriLee (cowgirl65)



Category: The Big Valley
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Drama, Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-07
Updated: 2012-03-07
Packaged: 2017-11-01 14:59:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/358137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowgirl65/pseuds/LoriLee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He died here. It's where they shot him. A thousand people came from the valley to bury him. He was that kind of man. " ~ Audra Barkley, 'Palms of Glory'</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Walk Through the Valley of the Shadow of Death

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own The Big Valley and make no money from this. Thanks to my friend for the inspiration.

They knew the Coastal and Western Railroad wouldn’t give up and knew more legal wrangling would be necessary to counter the next move. The meeting was unexpectedly interrupted by the arrival of a messenger.

“Excuse me, but I have an urgent telegram for Mr. Barkley.”

The young lawyer rose and took the folded paper from the boy. Only reflexes built in the courtroom let him keep his composure as he read it and he was proud that his hand trembled only slightly.

“I’m sorry, gentlemen, but I have to return to Stockton immediately,” Jarrod said with a with a calm he didn’t feel as he pocketed the telegram and gathered his notes.

“What is it, Jarrod?” Senator Briggs asked.

Jarrod closed his eyes briefly as he struggled not to let the grief and guilt overcome him. “My father’s just been murdered, in the same fight we’ve been working to prevent.”

 

The train ride home was uneventful; luckily the news hadn’t spread and he was saved the condolences from anyone recognizing him until he arrived in Stockton. It gave the young man time to marshal the innate poise that made him so effective in front of a judge and try to force down the feelings that lurked barely beneath the surface. He knew everyone would be watching; Tom Barkley had been an influential force in the valley and he didn’t think it was hubris to think people had looked to his family and would now be looking to him for guidance. It was his father who had urged the farmers to stand and fight; it was up to him as eldest to lead them, especially since he was the one who’d managed to stall the rail barons through the courts. 

As he watched the countryside speed past, Jarrod’s gut clenched. He knew it was his fault his father had been killed. When he’d managed to get the injunction against the railroad’s land grab, Tom had expressed his pride in his son’s ability as a lawyer for the first time. Jarrod knew his father was disappointed in him when, after returning from the war, he went to San Francisco to read law rather than return to run the ranch at his father’s side. But one thing the horrible conflict had taught him was that a man had to stand up for what he believed in, whether it was something as all-encompassing as every man’s right to be free or as small as what he wanted to do with his life. Tom never said a word against his eldest’s choice, but things had never been quite the same. When he returned home for visits, he was no longer included in riding out with his father and brother. Nick was firmly entrenched at Tom’s side and, even though Jarrod was glad for him and the two young men were still close, Jarrod was still saddened by the thought that he’d lost a measure of his father’s love and respect.

So when threats were made against his life and an assassin’s bullet from a shadowed alley barely missed him, Jarrod didn’t say a word. If he’d only mentioned it, Tom Barkley and eleven others might still be alive. But he’d been selfish; he didn’t want his father to think he couldn’t take care of himself and quietly arranged for his own personal protection, never dreaming that they would go after his father and the men he was meeting with that day.

There had been a note waiting for him when he returned to his hotel after receiving the news of his father’s death. _Stop all action against progress,_ it said, _or more of your family will suffer Tom Barkley’s fate_. Jarrod had quickly sent a wire to Nick to advise his brother the rest of the family might be in danger and a message to those he’d contracted for his own protection that he needed their services in Stockton. He wasn’t about to make his family suffer any more for his mistakes.

Nick was waiting for him when he got off the train and Jarrod wasn’t sure how he could face his brother after what had happened.

“Nick,” he said, extending a hand.

Nick grabbed and shook it before he pulled Jarrod close and hugged him tight. “Damn, Pappy, you’re sure a sight for sore eyes.”

Jarrod couldn’t speak past the lump in his throat. He controlled the tears that welled up in his eyes, but when they broke apart, he noticed Nick’s eyes were suspiciously bright. “It’s good to see you too, Nick. How are Mother and the young ones holding up?”

“Mother’s putting on a brave front for Gene and Audra, but I’ve caught her crying a couple times after they’ve gone to bed,” Nick told him. “The youngsters have been pretty brave too, but they don’t like me or Mother going anywhere. It was all I could do to get them to stay home when I came to meet you.”

Jarrod picked up his bag that he’d dropped during Nick’s welcome only to have Nick grab it out of his hand. “C’mon, let’s get out of here so we can talk. The horses are right over there.”

There was almost a hush as they walked past. Their father had been an important man and the conflict that killed him was very close to home for most of the inhabitants of Stockton. Townspeople looked in their direction as they made their way to the horses, but no one approached to express their sympathy. No doubt there would be many condolences offered at the funeral but Jarrod was thankful for the extra time without having to deal with that yet. If his mother didn’t feel up to dealing with the mourners and gawkers, that task would no doubt fall to him.

“What happened, Nick?’ Jarrod finally asked after they were a short distance away from town.

Nick kept staring straight ahead between his horse’s ears. “Father was meeting with Sample and the others. They’d picked a spot out on the ranch so no one would have to travel too far. Apparently someone fired from cover and shot Father in the back.” Nick’s voice caught and Jarrod didn’t say anything; he gave his brother a chance to regain his composure. “Sig Swenson was there; he was the only one to survive the firefight that followed. Three of the ambushers died; don’t know how many there were to start with, though.”

Jarrod nudged his mount so he was knee-to-knee with Nick. He reached over and pulled Nick’s horse to a stop beside him before grasping his brother’s arm. “I’m sorry, Nick,” he said quietly.

“You? You ain’t got nothing to be sorry for, Jarrod.”

Jarrod wasn’t ready to admit his culpability. He was silent for the rest of the ride, but by they time they’d reached the house, he knew he had to get everything off his chest. He and Nick had always been open with each other and Jarrod didn’t want something like that hanging over his head. He braced himself for Nick’s reaction; he had no idea how his sometimes volatile brother would react.

“I knew the railroad was more than willing to use violence,” he said slowly. “After the court granted my injunction, there were threats and an attempt on my life. I was arrogant enough to think it was only me, I never thought…” Jarrod hung his head in shame. “If I had said something, maybe Father would have been more careful and this wouldn’t have happened.”

“You…” Jarrod saw Nick’s hands clench. “Dammit, Jarrod!” Nick lashed out with his fist. He caught Jarrod solidly across the side of his face and knocked the young lawyer to the ground.

Jarrod’s cheek throbbed. He slowly picked himself off the ground and stood in front of his brother. “I deserved that, Nick. Once the funeral’s over and I know Mother and the children are going to be all right, I’ll head back to Sacramento or San Francisco.” With a heavy heart, he straightened his shoulders to mask the guilt, to put on a strong front for their mother and siblings, and started for the house. He jumped when a hand grabbed his shoulder and braced for another blow when Nick spun him around.

“Y’know, for a smart lawyer, you’re a first class idiot, Jarrod.” Nick reached out, clasped the stunned man’s arm with his other hand and shook him. “Damn right I’m mad at you for not saying anything, and maybe it would’ve made a difference, but you know there’s always danger! Don’t you think we’d have wanted to know if you were in trouble?! How do you think we’d feeling if we had to bury both of you?! And Father wouldn’t have done anything differently if he knew someone was gunning for him or not, just like you, and you damned well know it!”

Jarrod tried to swallow past the lump in his throat and a lone tear escaped when Nick pulled him into a fierce hug. “Thanks, Nick,” he managed to choke out.

“You’re my brother, Jarrod,” Nick stated matter-of-factly. “There’s no way you’d do anything to hurt the family, no more’n I would. Father taught us to take care of ourselves and to stand up for what we believe in and that’s all you were doing. He was real proud of what you accomplished up there in the capitol. He was always proud of you.” Nick picked up Jarrod’s bag, clapped him on the back and kept his arm around him as they slowly walked to the house.

“You really think so, Nick?” Jarrod asked. “I know he was disappointed that I didn’t want to run the ranch with him, even though I think he got the best of the deal having you with him instead.”

Nick shrugged. “He was, but he got over it pretty quick. Like you said, Pappy, he got a better rancher out of the bargain.” Jarrod chuckled a bit and Nick did the same before he continued. “He talked about you lots when we were riding out together. He always got a proud gleam in his eyes whenever he talked about what you were doing and how much better business was managed since you started helping out.” Nick’s voice broke and he reached up to wipe his eyes. “I don’t know how I’m gonna run this place on my own, Jarrod, without him…”

It was Jarrod’s turn to give his brother’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. “You won’t be alone, Nick,” he assured him. “I know I won’t be much help, but I’ll be here as long as you need me.”

Nick nodded as they went into the house. “Thanks. And don’t sell yourself short. I think those lily-white hands of yours still might remember to know how to do some real work.”

Jarrod slapped Nick with his hat before setting it on the hall table. He looked up at the rustle of skirts to see his mother enter the room.

Victoria held her head high and her posture was straight and sure, but it didn’t fool her oldest son. He saw the pallor in her face, the puffiness around her eyes and the sadness they held.

“Mother,” he said quietly and wrapped his arms around her to pull her close. She clung to him in a way she never had before and Jarrod rested his head on hers as she buried her face against him. They stayed together like that for a moment before Nick’s arms joined Jarrod’s and they all drew strength from each other.

“Jarrod, you’re home!”

Jarrod pulled away from his brother and mother to catch Audra as she ran to him. She clung to him even more fiercely than their mother had. “Oh, Jarrod!” she sobbed against his chest. “I want him back!”

“I know, honey. It’ll be okay,” he said soothingly as he stroked her hair. He held her and let her cry as he gave a sad smile to the youngest brother who’d just entered the room. At eleven, Eugene might not willingly admit it, but Jarrod could see the signs of tears on his face as well.

“Good to see you, Gene.”

The lanky youngster nodded and Jarrod could see him trying to hold onto his composure. “Hey, Jarrod.”

Jarrod gently extracted himself from Audra’s grasp. He held out a hand to Gene and gripped the boy’s arm as Gene shook the offered hand in greeting. He could see Gene struggling with his emotions and remembered how it felt to be that age, to be a boy but try to be a man. “Why don’t you come up and help me unpack?” he suggested. It would give him a chance to talk to his brother without him feeling he’d lose face by admitting his grief.

“Sure.”

Victoria gave her eldest a grateful smile as Eugene picked up Jarrod’s bag and Jarrod nodded before he followed his little brother up the stairs. He thought carefully about what to say as he unclasped the bag.

“We had a sister, born about two years after Nick,” he started and glanced at Gene, who was looking at him with surprise on his face. “Her name was Amelia. She got the croup when she was just over a year old.” Jarrod remembered his parents’ grief clearly. He’d been eight, so he understood and was understandably distressed that the laughing baby they all doted on wouldn’t be coming back, but he didn’t understand why his father clung to the small body and wouldn’t let the doctor take her until he was much older. He could still clearly see the tears on his father’s face. “I remember crying with him when Father told me it was more a mark of a man to admit he was grieving than it was to pretend otherwise.”

Jarrod had given into tears when he was safely in his hotel room after hearing the news, but hadn’t had the luxury again until now. He closed his eyes and let the tears fall for the loss of his father, for his mother’s loss of the man she loved, for Nick’s loss of not only a father but his partner and for the two youngest Barkleys who wouldn’t have that strong, loving hand to guide them into adulthood.

“I miss him, Jarrod.”

Jarrod opened his eyes. Tears were running freely down Gene’s cheeks. Jarrod reached out, grasped the back of his brother’s neck in reassurance and Gene leaned into the strength of his oldest brother’s arm.

“I do too, Gene.”

The brothers took comfort in each other’s presence as they exhausted their grief. Once the tears were done and wiped away, Jarrod looked solemnly at Gene.

“Gene, you’re going to have to take up some of the responsibility of being the man of the house,” Jarrod told him.

Gene looked surprised. “But what about you? And Nick?”

Jarrod sat on the edge of the bed so Gene’s head was above his. “Nick and I can’t be here all the time. There’s still the ranch to run along with everything else.” He gazed steadily at his brother. “Can I count on you?”

Gene’s posture straightened. “I won’t let you down, Jarrod.”

“That’s my brother.” Giving Eugene a sense of purpose would go a long way in helping him to deal with the loss of their father. “C’mon, let’s go find everyone else.”

*

The funeral was held two days later in the same grove of trees where the fatal shot had been fired. Victoria was adamant that her home was not to be overrun and her sons backed her decision. So notices were posted that the actual burial was going to be public but the family had chosen to mourn in private.

Jarrod and Nick were still concerned with their family’s safety, so trusted friends and associates were armed and on the lookout to give the brothers a chance say farewell to their father without that distraction.

It seemed like a thousand people showed up to pay their respects to Tom Barkley. Jarrod wasn’t completely surprised; his father had been that kind of man. A breeze blew gently as the reverend quoted the Twenty-Third Psalm. Victoria held Jarrod’s arm tightly, moving closer to him. Nick had his arm around Audra who wept unashamedly and Eugene stood between them, his face impassive. 

“The Lord is my Shepherd I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures, He leadeth me beside the still waters, He restoreth my soul. He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I will fear no evil for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies, Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the House of the Lord forever.”

Many of the valley’s residents stopped to give their condolences as the crowd dispersed. But the family stayed as the grave was filled, their self-appointed bodyguards waiting a discreet distance away. Jarrod and Nick shed their dark jackets, rolled up their sleeves and each picked up a shovel. When it was done, they thanked the neighbours who had helped with the sombre task. Then the five of them stood in silence, each absorbed by memories of the man they’d lost. They turned away in unspoken accord and that was when Jarrod noticed the solitary man standing a distance away. Recognizing him, Jarrod turned to his mother. “I’ll be along shortly,” he told her.

She too appeared to recognize the man. “Don’t be long, Jarrod,” she said with a brief caress to his cheek.

He gave her a quick kiss. “I won’t.” Jarrod looked to Nick. No words needed to be said for Jarrod to convey to Nick to look after them and for Nick to tell Jarrod to be careful.

Jarrod took note that one of the men protecting them stayed behind as the family got in the buggy and Nick left the horse he’d ridden to the funeral for his brother as he took the reins. The now head of the Barkley family then walked over to the tall, well-dressed man.

“A lot of people here to pay homage to your father,” Hannibal Jordan observed.

“He was a great man.” Jarrod tucked his fingers in the pockets of his vest. “I wonder if those who arranged to have him killed know exactly what they did.”

Jordan pulled a cigar out of his pocket and bit off the end before he stuck it in his mouth. “A horrible loss for your family.”

“Yes,” Jarrod agreed, “but that wasn’t what I meant.” His family keenly felt the loss and it would take a while for things to get back to any semblance of normal. He was suffering from the guilt of wondering if his actions, or lack of them, would have made a difference. Having Nick’s forgiveness made it easier to bear, but the guilt was still there.

But he thought of the threats levelled against him and his family and thought of what his father’s death meant in the greater scheme of things. He thought of his father’s words of praise when he was granted the injunction against the land grab spearheaded by the man standing before him and knew his father’s life, and death, had an even greater significance than that of the loss of a respected family patriarch. “Someone intended to deliver a lesson and a warning to the people of this valley, but instead they created a martyr. And there’s nothing more powerful to a cause than that. I think that was proven today.” He stared implacably at Jordan and the man eventually looked away.

“Even a martyr can’t stop progress,” he said, but Jarrod heard hesitation in his voice.

“No, but he can make people see that progress that hurts isn’t really progress at all. Now if you’ll excuse me…” Jarrod walked back in the direction of his father’s grave. Jordan didn’t follow and a discreet glance showed a thoughtful but resigned look on the rail baron’s face.

The newly turned earth was like a scar amid the peaceful grove of trees. A light breeze ruffled through Jarrod’s hair as he sank to his knees in front of the mound of dirt. “I’m sorry if I ever disappointed you, Father. But I’ll continue your fight, whatever it takes. Our family comes first; I promise I’ll be there for them and look after them for you. I’ll make you proud, Father. I swear I won’t fail you again.”


End file.
